Commando General

by Richard B Mead

  Bob returned to GHQ to find that it had at last decided to ignore the strictures on dispersal and had moved virtually all its offices into Arras itself. In any other place this would have caused great concern about bombing, but the town was honeycombed with cellars, tunnels and sewers, which made excellent and intercommunicating air raid shelters, whose construction Bob now supervised.

  Shortly after Christmas he left for England, as he had been given a fortnight’s leave before starting at Camberley. This was spent substantially at Wiseton with Angie and the family. His brothers Peter and Michael were both subalterns in the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry, which was stationed close by, enabling him to see a lot of them. Their regiment was part of 5 Cavalry Brigade, itself a component of 1 Cavalry Division, which was concentrating in the area prior to its departure for the Middle East. The Household Cavalry Composite Regiment was also nearby in 4 Cavalry Brigade of the same division, and Antony Head was temporarily acting as brigade major. He and his wife, Dot, had taken a house at Southwell, and Bob was delighted to find that Head would be on the same course at the Staff College. The Heads’ own house was at Winkworth, near Camberley, and Bob and Angie were invited to stay until they found a place of their own.

  The Second War Course at Camberley opened on 11 January 1940. It was quite different in scope and objective from the pre-war course, which had lasted two years and which, many said, was intended to develop future generals rather than staff officers. The new and truncated course was designed to produce, in the shortest possible time, Grade 2 General Staff Officers and their equivalents in the logistics and personnel branches, Deputy Assistant Quartermasters General and Adjutants General. The First War Course had been largely populated with Territorial Army officers, but its successor was substantially for pre-war regulars who were either already serving or had rejoined from the Reserve of Officers. The Commandant was Major General R. J. Collins, who had retired from the Army in 1938, only to be brought back again. Bob found him most uninspiring, locked in the mindset of the previous war. The opposite was true of the Chief Instructor, Brian Horrocks, and of two of Bob’s three syndicate leaders, Charles Loewen and Charles Keightley, all of whom impressed him greatly and went on to have highly distinguished careers. Bob found many friends amongst the students, including a number of other Old Etonians. His fellow officers from the BEF included Tom Churchill, who had been a near contemporary at Sandhurst and who was to serve under him later in the War, whilst Bob made a new friend in Bernard Fergusson, who was to achieve great distinction with the Chindits before he, too, served under Bob.

  As the course was only fourteen and a half weeks long10 and a great deal of information was compressed into it, it was extremely demanding, with homework in the evenings and the only time off lasting from midday Saturday until first thing Monday morning. Bob and Angie had rented ‘a nasty little villa’ nearby, in which entertaining was difficult, particularly as the cook turned out to be hopeless and then contracted pneumonia. However, it was at least close enough to the Staff College for Bob to be able to bicycle in every day, with all his paraphernalia in the front basket, although there was one unfortunate incident when the brakes failed on an icy road and he crashed into an old lady, who was sent flying; happily no serious harm was done. From a professional perspective, Bob enjoyed the course, but he felt that he had actually learned relatively little apart from basic staff duties. There was not a great deal of instruction on how to fight a battle and next to nothing at all on combined operations, at the time an almost unknown science.

  At the end of the course the outstanding students, who were to find immediate employment, were sent for by the Commandant. One of these was Antony Head, who was posted as Brigade Major of 1 Guards Brigade, a plum appointment.11 Bob was told by Horrocks that he was to become GSO2 (Chemical Warfare) of the Norwegian Expeditionary Force, then being put together in the light of the German invasion of Denmark and Norway. However, he was not to take up his appointment until the force was securely established in Norway itself and, in the meantime, he was to attend an advanced gas course at Winterbourne Gummer. He and Angie left their villa with great relief and moved into a hotel in Amesbury.

  The preconditions for Bob’s posting to the Norwegian Expeditionary Force were never satisfied. Indeed, not only were the British and French forced to withdraw from Norway, but the Germans then invaded Belgium and the BEF was evacuated from Dunkirk. Instead, prior to the conclusion of the course at Winterbourne Gummer, Bob was informed that he was still to become a GSO2 (Chemical Warfare), but that this would now be at GHQ Middle East in Cairo.

  Chapter 7

  Commando

  Bob was ordered to report to the Household Cavalry Training Regiment at Windsor and await instructions regarding his passage to the Middle East. He was very low on the priority list and on several occasions was asked to stand by, only to have the movement order cancelled, which was deeply frustrating. The Commanding Officer of the HCTR was Lieutenant Colonel Lord Forester, whom Bob had known since he joined the Blues and who was delighted to have a staff trained officer, assigning him to instruct the newly joined subalterns. Bob spent most of his time preparing and umpiring TEWTS (Tactical Exercises Without Troops).

  Bob and Angie moved into the Bridge House Hotel in Eton, but not long afterwards they decided that she should take the two children to stay with her father in Canada. He was deeply concerned about the dangers of the Atlantic crossing and relieved when he heard that they had arrived safely, later asking her to promise that she would not return until he sent for her.

  Leaving the hotel one day, Bob met a fellow officer who told him of a letter which had been circulated to all units calling for volunteers for a special force to be used for raiding the coast of Occupied Europe. In the Orderly Room he read a copy of the letter and liked what he saw. Forrester, who would be losing him anyway, was perfectly happy to nominate Bob, and his name was duly submitted to London District.

  The genesis of the letter – War Office No.20/Misc./1786 (A.G.I.a.) dated 9 June 1940 to Northern and Southern Commands and 17 June to Eastern and Western Commands and London District – lay with none other than the Prime Minister. Churchill, in office for less than a month, during which time the Germans had overwhelmingly defeated the Allies, was already thinking of ways to hit back. In a minute to the Chiefs of Staff on 3 June he wrote:

  The completely defensive habit of mind, which has ruined the French, must not be allowed to ruin all our initiative. It is of the highest consequence to keep the largest numbers of German forces all along the coasts of the countries that have been conquered, and we should immediately set out to organise raiding forces on these coasts where the populations are friendly. Such forces might be composed by self-contained, thoroughly equipped units of say 1,000 up to not less than 10,000 when combined.1

  Two days later he wrote again in much the same vein:

  Enterprises must be prepared with specially trained troops of the hunter class, who can develop a reign of terror first of all on the ‘butcher and bolt’ policy.

  I look to the Chiefs of Staff to propose me measures for a vigorous, enterprising and ceaseless offensive against the whole German occupied coastline.2

  John Dill had replaced ‘Tiny’ Ironside as CIGS on 27 May and, following Churchill’s first minute, he instructed his Military Secretary, Lieutenant Colonel Dudley Clarke, to produce some ideas on how this might work. On 30 May Clarke had already aired the possibility of raising a force to engage in guerrilla warfare on the Continent, and now he jotted down an outline plan on a single sheet of paper. He had been born in the Transvaal just before the beginning of the South African War, to a father who had ridden on the Jameson Raid, and his thoughts turned instinctively to the Boer Commandos, handpicked men who had lived off the land and caused the British considerable trouble long after the war was thought to have been won. He later wrote: ‘There seemed no reason why we could not adapt the principle of the leader with his loose-knit band of followers, why specially tra
ined British soldiers should not learn to throw off heavy equipment and echelons of supply, and go stripped into a quick action ready to “live off the land” for the short time it lasted.’3

  The CIGS was attracted to the idea and put it to Churchill, who gave his approval. Clarke enlisted the support of the Deputy Director of Military Operations, Major General Otto Lund, and the two officers set up Section MO9 at the War Office to assume responsibility for all kinds of raiding operations. A small staff was assembled, one of whom was the actor David Niven, who had served in the Army in the 1930s and rejoined when war was declared.

  There were two priorities: to raise the force and to start raiding as soon as practicable. As Lund pointed out, there was one ready-made source for the first, in the shape of the Independent Companies, ten of which had been formed in April 1940 to fight in Norway, although in the event only five had been committed there. Clarke immediately set off for Scotland to visit them before they could be disbanded and to select a number of men to form what became 11 Independent Company for the first raid.

  Clarke also enlisted the support of the Royal Navy, which seconded Captain G. A. Garnons-Williams to help with assembling the necessary vessels. A few days later he was somewhat disconcerted to hear from Garnons-Williams that the Adjutant-General Royal Marines, Lieutenant General Alan Bourne, had been appointed as Advisor, Combined Operations, to the Chiefs of Staff, with overall responsibility for raiding. Whilst this was evidence of a tri-service approach, which was welcome, it also complicated the command structure. Nevertheless, Clarke was able to mount the first raid, which he accompanied himself. Operation COLLAR took place on the night of 24/25 June, when a small number of men were landed a few miles south of Boulogne. Some contact was made with the Germans, two of whom were killed in an exchange of fire, and the only British casualty was Clarke himself, wounded in the ear. The results were otherwise negligible, but an official communiqué was released, playing up the operation for public consumption.

  Clarke could now get on with the process of raising the commandos. Major General R. H. Dewing, the Director of Military Operations and Plans, set out in a memorandum of 13 June how this would happen:

  The procedure proposed for raising and maintaining commandos is as follows. One or two officers in each Command will be selected as Leaders. They will each be instructed to select from their own Commands a number of Troop Leaders to serve under them. The Troop Leaders will in turn select the officers and men to form their own Troop. Whilst no strengths have yet been decided upon I have in mind commandos of a strength of something like 10 troops of roughly 50 men each. Each troop will have a commander and one or possibly two other officers.4

  At the time Bob read the War Office letter and decided to apply, he had no idea that someone he knew well was to become involved in his potential selection. This was Niven, whom he had met on a number of occasions and who later took the credit for Bob’s eventual appointment and rise to prominence:

  I did something for which, in my opinion, the military has never adequately rewarded me. I suggested to my new uncle by marriage, Robert Laycock, that he should join the Commandos.

  He was then a captain in the Royal Horse Guards and had just received a posting to India to become gas officer of a division and was due to embark in a few days’ time. He came to the War Office and I introduced him to Dudley Clarke who immediately decided that this was just the man he wanted.

  Bob and I paced the stone corridors of that dreary old building while Clarke dashed about, pulling strings as a result of which someone else went to India and Bob formed No. 8 Commando.5

  Typically of Niven, this brief passage is not entirely accurate and was subject to some embellishment. He did not marry Primmie Rollo, the daughter of Bill Rollo and Bob’s half-sister, Kathleen, until three months later and, at the time of his application to join the Commandos, Bob had no idea that Niven even knew her. Perhaps more importantly, the idea of Bob joining the Commandos did not emanate from Niven, although he undoubtedly made a significant contribution towards securing the desired result.

  The true story was rather more complex. It began with Forrester forwarding his nomination of Bob to the GOC London District, Lieutenant General Sir Bertram Sergison-Brooke.6 ‘Boy’ Brooke and Bob had previous history, and it was distinctly mixed. The first incident had occurred when Bob, as Silver Stick Adjutant-in-Waiting, was standing next to Brooke, then in his first term as GOC London District, on the steps of St George’s Chapel, Windsor during the funeral of King George V. Throwing a salute to the coffin, Bob’s fingers had caught the back of Brooke’s cocked hat which, whilst it remained on his head, became tilted at a rakish angle, which he was forced to endure until the coffin had passed. Brooke was not amused. The second incident had arisen on the occasion of a dispute between Bob and the Regimental Veterinary Officer, in which the former had used strong language to the latter, his senior by many years, in front of the Commanding Officer of the Blues. The matter was referred to Brooke who, perhaps surprisingly, came down in favour of Bob.

  Even so, Bob was somewhat apprehensive when summoned by Brooke for an interview. The GOC began by saying that he disapproved of his units being deprived of good men, but as the War Office had issued the letter, he had no alternative but to comply. He then astonished Bob by saying that he would be recommending not that Bob should be given command of one of the troops in the Commando to be formed out of London District, but that he should be its overall commander, an appointment which would see his accelerated promotion to lieutenant colonel. Bob was overjoyed, only to be dismayed moments later when Brooke told him that he was fairly sure that he would find it impossible to be relieved of his staff job. Nevertheless, the recommendation went forward to MO9.

  Arriving at the War Office for his next interview, Bob was delighted to find that the staff officer handling the applications was Niven. His spirits fell, however, when he discovered how many officers were there, all after the same position, all filling in questionnaires detailing their relevant experience. They rose again when he read the questionnaire, which seemed to have been designed for him:

  ‘ Do you like the sea?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Have you ever been yachting?’ ‘I am a member of the Royal Yacht Squadron and several other yacht clubs.’ ‘Can you ride a horse?’ (incongruously enough, I thought.) ‘Yes. I have hunted since I was five years old and am in a cavalry regiment.’ ‘Have you ever been deer-stalking or big game hunting?’ ‘Yes. I shot a “royal” before I went to Eton and was on a stalking holiday just before the outbreak of war.’ ‘Have you ever taken leave to carry out an expedition not connected with the Army?’ ‘Yes. I sailed half way round the word in the four-masted barque Herzogin Cecilie and worked for a fortnight as a stevedore in the port of Beira in Portuguese East Africa.’7 ‘Have you ever boxed?’ ‘Yes. I boxed for my public school.’ ‘Have you ever been on a machine gun course?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘A signal course?’ ‘Yes.’ Do you suffer from sea-sickness?’ ‘I have never been sea-sick in my life: etc., etc.’8

  The only question on which he was forced to dissemble was about his language skills: he claimed to be able to get by in French, whereas his vocabulary was in practice largely confined to gastronomy.

  The interview with Clarke went very well, and Clarke told him that he had been in two minds about the leadership of the Commando in question but had come down in Bob’s favour because of his experience at sea. His qualification as a Finnish Able Seaman had more than proved its worth and, when Clarke told Bob that he would apply to the Military Secretary for his posting as a Commando Leader, he left a happy man.

  A few days later, Bob was summoned back to see Clarke, who delivered bad news. The Military Secretary had flatly turned down the transfer on the grounds that Bob had been expensively trained as a staff officer and should thus fill a staff job for which he was one of only a tiny number with the requisite qualifications. Shortly afterwards came another shock, when the Movements branch at the War Office advised him that his passage had now
been fixed on a ship leaving in three days’ time. Clarke immediately appealed to the DCIGS and the Deputy Military Secretary, and Bob went across to the latter’s department to see what might be arranged, all to no avail.

  Bob then sought an interview with the CIGS himself, which as he later admitted was highly presumptuous. However, he had met Dill on a pre-war cruise in the Mediterranean, on which the latter had been lecturing, and had found him very friendly. To his surprise Dill agreed to see him and listened sympathetically, saying that he would discuss the matter with the Military Secretary. Shortly afterwards he delivered a ruling, which was that Bob would be able to transfer but only he if could produce an officer with identical qualifications who was willing and able to travel immediately.

  This seemed highly unlikely, but Niven persuaded Clarke to give Bob a chance and Bob himself returned to the Military Secretary’s department, where he talked to the officer whose responsibility it was to come up with the names of officers possessing a certain combination of qualifications. The system rapidly produced three names: the first was Bob, the second had already been posted to a GSO2 job and the third was Captain Geoffrey Marnham of the Royal Artillery, who was serving as a GSO3 (Chemical Warfare) with a division in Western Command. As it happened, Bob knew him well as a member of his syndicate on the staff college course.

  Bob was now staying temporarily in Wells Rise, north of Regents Park, with Angie’s mother Freda, who immediately put her phone at his disposal. Persuading telephone operators to divulge numbers was far from easy, but by sheer persistence Bob managed to get through to the duty officer at the divisional HQ concerned, who refused to tell him where Marnham was. Bob then said that he was calling from the War Office and insisted on speaking to the divisional commander, who was reluctantly summoned from dinner to the phone. Bob explained that Marnham was urgently required for another job and was both surprised and delighted to hear from the general that he had no time for Chemical Warfare, that Marnham was a complete nuisance and that the sooner he got rid of him, the happier he would be. The duty officer was instructed to contact Marnham and get him to ring Bob.